


grace me with closeness

by the_ragnarok



Series: cat!Jon [7]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Martin Blackwood's Poetry, Pet Play, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: For the prompt by ohwormhere: as a j/m fluff promt, maybe Martin sharing his peotry with jon or others (like the trans meetup?) and it being appriciated (maybe also Jon's reaction to hearing something postie about himself so openly?) (If in the cat!Jon AU, maybe it being a bit of a praise kink thing or Martin absent-mindedly saying it to Jon while he's sleep/happy/in subspace).
Relationships: Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Series: cat!Jon [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622008
Comments: 24
Kudos: 387





	grace me with closeness

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt by ohwormhere: as a j/m fluff promt, maybe Martin sharing his peotry with jon or others (like the trans meetup?) and it being appriciated (maybe also Jon's reaction to hearing something postie about himself so openly?) (If in the cat!Jon AU, maybe it being a bit of a praise kink thing or Martin absent-mindedly saying it to Jon while he's sleep/happy/in subspace).

Jon's eyes are closed. Might as well be, since vision makes no sense anyway. He's good, though; better than good, with his head in Martin's lap and Martin's hand in his hair. Martin's talking, but as far as Jon can tell, it's not addressed to him directly. Martin's just softly chattering to fill up the silence, as he does sometimes.

Jon shuffles to put his face closer to Martin's soft belly. Martin cups the back of his head gently, like he's something precious.

 _Precious_. The word catches at his attention, tearing a jagged strip through the comforting fog he'd been floating in. Like putting on a new pair of glasses, except for his hearing, Martin's voice comes into focus.

"Precious, lovely, those you are," Martin's murmuring, "my joy, my sun, my evening star; I would admire from afar, but you graced me with closeness."

Jon opens his eyes and blinks. 

Martin looks back, nonplussed. "Oh, hello," he says, still in that low, dreamy voice. "Back with us?"

Jon struggles to form words. "Martin," he says, "what was that?"

Martin's expression goes blank, twin spots of color blooming in his cheeks. "I thought you... weren't in attendance."

Jon shrugs. "My - sensory processing," he says with words with a roll of his eyes, "snapped back on for no reason I can discern. Don't worry about it. I want to know what you were saying."

Martin rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "Um. Nothing important? I'm sorry, I won't do it again if it bothers you."

"I didn't say it bothered me." Giving up on words, Jon extricates himself from Martin's lap, butting at his shoulder, gently nipping at his hand when Martin tries to pet him, and butting at his shoulder again.

Miraculously, Martin understands. "You... want me to keep doing that?" Jon purrs in assent. "Um. They're just stuff I came up with, they're no good."

Jon growls and nips at Martin's fingers again.

Martin laughs. "Okay, no down-talking myself, got it." His blush deepens. "I certainly have no shortage of poems focusing on you."

When Martin starts going again, finally, Jon settles back in his lap. His understanding of words flows in and out like an out of tune radio, but Martin's affection is palpable in every sound he makes, regardless of comprehension. 


End file.
